


Cracks in the Armor

by crna_macka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crna_macka/pseuds/crna_macka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She tried with Wick, she tried with Bellamy, and now she tries with Jackson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracks in the Armor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unicarna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicarna/gifts).



> Written for the tumblr prompt: "Abby/Raven: we're dating other people so we don't have to face this thing between us but we keep ending up alone together."

“We can’t do this,” Abby whispered.  
  
“We can’t.” Raven let herself have moment, just one moment, of softness and regret before stepping away. A scant foot of space let her put her armor back on, straighten her spine and square her shoulders. When Abby smiled tentatively, she smiled back without hesitation.   
  
“I’m–”  
  
“It’s fine. We’re fine.” Raven waved her off. She didn’t want apologies then and she doesn’t want apologies now.  
  
She sees the way Marcus shadows Abby, the way he is never far, not anymore. Abby doesn’t even have to make an effort to have him at her side whenever she and Raven might cross paths for anything other than official business.  
  
Raven tries to do the same. She tried with Wick, she tried with Bellamy, and now she tries with Jackson.  
  
But she can’t replicate that easy investment that the older couple have. Nothing feels natural about casually touching Jackson’s arm or long goodbyes when they go their separate ways, or anything but the quiet intensity of physicality. That much is good.  
  
That, and the way he is so much better at being a buffer between her and Abby in a way Wick and Bellamy weren’t.  
  
It’s easier to look away from Abby when Jackson isn’t far behind, or to drop by the medical wing knowing that it’s Jackson’s domain, too. Raven actually looks forward to seeing him; she _counts_ on him.  
  
Except she can’t count on him outside the camp. Or when the groups split. Or when she’s too injured to be picky about who’s patching her up.  
  
That’s the worst. When she wakes up in a panic and it’s Abby gently pushing her back down and stilling her thrashing, not Jackson. Worse than clutching Abby’s hand as Jackson pries twisted metal from her skin, because at least then, she can focus on his face, his hands, rather than the woman next to her.

_Don’t do this to me, Abby._

Here, in the dimness of the medical wing at night, there is no Kane. No Jackson.  
  
Raven’s armor is cracking. Abby won’t leave her to repair.


End file.
